


Something stronger than sage

by aquileaofthelonelymountain



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, At Beorn's, Awkward!Thorin, Bilbo may have saved the company from the trolls but Thorin's touchy nonetheless, Bottom!Thorin, M/M, Oral Sex, Scent Kink, Top!Bilbo, bagginshield, even more scent kink, flirty!Bilbo, nsfw(ish) in the first chapter, smut in the second chapter, steamy kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2018-12-09 09:38:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11666511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/pseuds/aquileaofthelonelymountain
Summary: “Yes, I am looking for soap”, Thorin told the hobbit in a tone that should really make it clear that there was nothing to wonder about. Before he could stop himself from saying something stupid, he added: “I thought you of all people would be quite happy about that.”Of course Bilbo only commented on the dwarves' smell to save them from the trolls - but isn't there a saying that there's a grain of truth in every statement? At least that's what Thorin remembers, and what still makes him grit his teeth ...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When I watched An Unexpected Journey a few days ago, I cme up with the headcanon that Thorin is actually a bit (just a bit, of course ...) touchy because Bilbo told the trolls "Well, have you smelt them? You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!"  
> And OF COURSE I had to write a ficlet about this :D

Thorin looked at the palms of his hands and frowned.

The quick wash in the icy river beneath the Carrock had removed the coarsest dirt from his skin, but it had been impossible to remove the traces of many weeks of travelling. The fine lines on his palms were still dark with dust, and there was dried blood under his fingernails. And, he noticed with growing frustration, it wasn’t his hands alone. His hair was a tangled mess, and his clothes were covered with mud. He had run, he had fought, he had sweated, and now he could only imagine how he must smell.

_Well, have you smelt them?_

He shook his head in dismay as he kept searching the shelves in Beorn’s bath for a bar of soap. It wasn’t a bath in the narrow sense of the word, it was more of a hut – made of stone, just like any reasonable dwarf would build it – with a big tub roughly carved from wood, and a rain barrel full of water. But there was no copper kettle, not even firewood to warm it, and the prospect of another cold bath didn’t help to improve Thorin’s mood.

Nor did the fact that somebody else obviously wanted to take a bath right now as well.

“Occupied”, Thorin snapped without stopping his hunt for a bar of soap.

The answer he received, however, was a light-hearted chuckle.

“I do not mean to push myself between you and your bath”, Master Baggins commented idly, “but it was impossible for me to just pass by. I could hear your grumbling even through the closed door.”

Thorin glared at the hobbit. It was easy to speak for Bilbo in such a cheerful manner! Although he had gone through the same hardships the dwarves had, he just didn’t look like it. His red jacket had suffered quite a bit under their previous adventures, but he had taken it off. Clad in pants, a plain white shirt, and his green waistcoat, he looked strangely at ease, as if he had just returned from a pleasant walk. His skin looked clean and smooth, his curls weren’t dishevelled at all, and even his damned neckerchief sat perfectly. Thorin bet that he smelt nice at well. Not that he ever thought about their burglar’s smell, or about how soft his hair looked, or about how his skin would feel beneath his palms –

Flustered, Thorin lowered his gaze on the shelf again. That should make it clear enough that he wished to be alone.

But obviously it wasn’t, or Bilbo simply chose to ignore the sign. Instead, he took some steps closer and peeked over Thorin’s shoulder. “Are you looking for something?”, he asked innocently.

“Soap”, the dwarf muttered.

“Soap?”, Bilbo repeated. He sounded surprised, as if he had expected a completely different answer.

“Yes, soap”, Thorin answered in a tone that should really make it clear that there was nothing to wonder about. Before he could stop himself from saying something stupid, he added: “I thought you of all people would be quite happy about that.”

“About soap?” The hobbit was clearly amused, and his teasing voice made Thorin grit his teeth. He should have stayed quiet! But now he couldn’t back down, so he explained himself further: “I clearly remember you saying that the trolls would have needed something stronger than sage to cover our smell.”

His cheeks burned with embarrassment as Bilbo burst into laughter. “I hope you also remember”, he replied between chuckles, “that I was trying to stop them from eating you, Thorin!”

“I do”, the king answered. He turned away from the shelf, faced the hobbit, and raised himself to his full height to regain some dignity. “However, I cannot help wondering why you only complained about the smell of us dwarves. After all, you had just as little opportunity to take a bath as we had. And I also remember that you were covered with troll snort in exactly that moment.”

If he had hoped to see Bilbo’s smile waver at least a bit at this special memory, well, the hobbit didn’t do him the favour. His grin only broadened.

“Have you really thought about this all the while?” He shook his head in amusement. Then he looked at Thorin again, trying to put on a serious face. He almost managed, but the twinkle in his eyes spoke volumes. “Be assured, Master Oakenshield, that I only tried to save us all from ending up as a snack for trolls. Of course I did not mean to insult you.” He showed him a grin. “Actually … I quite like _your_ smell.”

Before Thorin’s mind even had the chance to grasp what that again had to mean, Bilbo crossed the distance between them and pressed the tip of his nose against his throat. It wasn’t a timid gesture at all: Bilbo knew very well what he was doing, and he didn’t show any intention of drawing back again. The pressure of his nose against Thorin’s skin even increased. Then he inhaled deeply, causing the dwarf to gasp.

“Leather and fur”, Bilbo mumbled, and his breath grazed over Thorin’s skin. “Campfire and pipe weed … Musky earth …” His nose trailed across his throat, up to his jaw, and slowly down to his collarbone again.

Thorin grit his teeth to fight back a moan. He stood frozen, his hands half raised as if to push the hobbit away any moment. But he found that he couldn’t do that … That he didn’t _want_ to do that. Bilbo’s closeness was too delicious. It made his heart rush in an almost painful way, and yet he treasured every second of it. How could it be that the sole pressure of a nose – a nose! – was so teasing?

Bilbo took another deep sniff, and his curls tickled Thorin’s chin. “And then there’s your very own scent …” He let out a little laugh, and Thorin’s knees got wobbly as he noticed that he could almost feel Bilbo’s lips on him. “You smell deliciously.”

The next moment Bilbo’s lips were on him indeed, and Thorin nearly sank against the wooden tub as his knees threatened to give in. The soft and wet pressure against his skin made him dizzy, and his breath hitched as Bilbo parted his lips at that. He gave a start at the sudden flick of tongue against his throat. Before the hobbit could mistake this as a sign to stop his caresses, Thorin’s hand flew up into his hair to hold him in position; the curls felt like silk as he ran his fingers through them. Thorin placed his other hand on Bilbo’s waist, and his palm prickled at the softness and warmth he felt beneath it. Bilbo hummed in agreement – the sound vibrated against Thorin’s throat and made him moan. Encouraged, he let his hand roam along the hobbit’s side, explored the soft curve of his body.

Now it was Bilbo’s part to moan, and he dragged his open mouth over Thorin’s neck with growing fervour. The dwarf let his head fall back, offering the crook of his neck willingly to Bilbo. And the hobbit made full use of it: He kissed and licked and nibbled his way along it, making the dwarf melt under his lips.

Thorin felt like wax under them indeed, and he followed readily as the hobbit gently placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face until he looked at him.

“Do you know what would also smell good on you?”, he whispered, his voice soft as a promise.

Thorin swallowed. Bilbo looked beautiful, nestled up to him like this: His face was flushed and his breath had quickened, but his eyes shone, and his slightly parted lips, only separated from his own by a hair’s breadth … “W-what?”, he croaked, not able to tear his gaze away from those tempting lips.

“A bit of hay”, Bilbo smiled, “and a heavy sprinkle of hobbit.”

He drew Thorin closer and kissed him. His lips grazed over Thorin’s tenderly; the caress was chaste in comparison to the kisses and nibbles from before. And yet his breath was taken away again, and his heart skipped several beats as he slowly began to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. But then, as he understood what such a tender kiss meant, his heart beat again, stronger and faster than ever before. He wrapped his arms around Bilbo and leaned into the touch, answered it with the same gentleness the hobbit gifted to him.

“Let’s postpone your bath”, Bilbo mumbled against his lips while he rubbed his thumb gently over Thorin’s cheek, “and let’s find a quiet place … just for the two of us.” He laughed happily. “Only you, and me … and the scent of hay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's mind was racing as it tried to comprehend the events that had brought Bilbo and him up here, into Beorn’s hayloft.

“Did I promise too much? It’s a wonderful scent!”

Bilbo inhaled deeply, almost comically, but Thorin couldn’t bring himself to laugh. His mind was racing as it tried to comprehend the events that had brought Bilbo and him up here, into Beorn’s hayloft. Back in the bath Bilbo had taken his hand, and he had followed the hobbit’s lead as if in trance, with the taste of his kiss still on his lips. It felt unreal: the strong smell of hay, the flakes of dust dancing in the sunbeams, and his skin prickling wherever Bilbo had touched it.

“Don’t make such a sour face, my dear”, Bilbo chided him, his voice soft and playful. He reached out and traced a finger along Thorin’s neck, causing him to hold his breath. His touch was lingering, but eventually he placed his hand flat on the dwarf’s chest and added some pressure. Thorin didn’t have the strength to resist, and the small hobbit pushed him down into the hay effortlessly. Bilbo, however, stayed where he was for another moment. His smile deepened as he looked down on Thorin. “I prefer your scent to that of hay.”

With that, he straddled Thorin. The dwarf had to bite his lips as their hips were locked together, and a hot wave of embarrassment washed over him – it was just too obvious how easily Bilbo affected him.

The hobbit, however, placed a hand on his cheek and moved his thumb over Thorin’s skin. “What a lovely sight you are”, he mumbled affectionately. Thorin’s eyes widened as he continued the tender gesture, and when Bilbo bent forward to kiss him a choked sound escaped the dwarf. It made Bilbo draw back immediately, concern written on his face.

“Thorin? Is everything alright? Your wounds –” The hobbit made a somewhat helpless gesture, and only the dwarf’s hands on his hips stopped him from getting up. “Are you in pain? The fights with the goblins and the orcs …”

“No, I’m not”, he replied; the bruises were almost healed by now. Colour rose into his cheeks. “It’s just … You and me, and that we are here … I could have never dreamed –”

He broke off as Bilbo brought his lips close to his. “But I dreamed of it”, he whispered, his hot breath brushing over Thorin’s skin. The next moment, he pulled him into a soft, slow kiss. “You were in my dreams the night we met, back at Bag End”, he explained after he had released Thorin. “After I’ve heard you sing …” He kissed him once more, and this time Bilbo’s tongue found its way into Thorin’s mouth. It explored him slowly, and the dwarf’s fingers dug into Bilbo’s back as if he was the only one in this whole world who could give him hold.

“I don’t remember much of that dream”, Bilbo said after having caught his breath again, “but the longing I felt, not for adventures, but for you … And back on the Carrock, when your warmth and your scent surrounded me … Oh Thorin …” Bilbo’s sudden moan sent a shiver through his body, and he opened his mouth willingly as the hobbit pushed his tongue into it again, hungrier this time. There was a certain urgency to his kiss now, a need that Thorin also felt in Bilbo’s hardening length pressing against his own.

Bilbo lifted his lips from Thorin’s mouth just to press them against his jaw and neck, covering him with wet kisses. At the same time Thorin tried to disrobe him with shaking fingers. He had only managed to toss away his neckerchief and to open a few buttons of his shirt – how smooth the hobbit’s bare skin felt beneath his fingers! – before Bilbo sat back a little. He reached for Thorin’s tunic and pulled it over his head; his shirt followed just as quickly. The hobbit’s gaze took in the sight of his naked chest hungrily. He let his hands follow, moved them over his chest while he watched him with dark eyes.

Then Bilbo leaned forward and pressed his nose against Thorin’s collarbone. He took a deep breath and moaned, a sound that made Thorin’s hips jerk forward desperately. Bilbo chuckled, the puff of air delicious against the dwarf’s skin, and continued his caresses. He moved his nose across Thorin’s chest, taking in his scent with pleased little sounds. Then the tip of his nose brushed against Thorin’s nipple, and the shock that raced through his body made him wonder once more how the pressure of a nose could be so teasing. He groaned as Bilbo added quick flicks of his tongue, and he squirmed beneath him when he felt the soft scraping of teeth. Breathlessly he watched how the hobbit licked and nibbled his way down Thorin’s belly.

With a last wet kiss to Thorin’s navel, Bilbo sat back. He smiled teasingly, almost wickedly at the dwarf before lowering his head again and pressing his nose against Thorin’s bulge. He inhaled audibly as he rubbed his nose up and down his clothed length, gradually increasing the pressure. Thorin groaned through gritted teeth. He felt tight as a string, and he dug his fingers into the straw as he fought the urge to push his hips forward. The sensation of Bilbo nuzzling his bulge almost drove him over the edge, and there was still the fabric of his trousers between them! How should he be able to last for more than a few moments when the last barrier between them was gone, and he felt Bilbo’s touch on his bare skin?

Suddenly the pressure was gone, and Thorin, not sure if he should curse or be grateful, exhaled shakily. Bilbo’s face appeared in his field of vision again, and the hobbit gave him a fiery kiss while he undid the dwarf’s belt. Then his fingers slipped under the fabric, and he tore Thorin’s pants down to his ankles in a swift movement. The dwarf kicked his boots off. The next moment his pants were gone, and he was left naked under Bilbo’s gaze.

The hobbit positioned himself between his legs, but didn’t touch him yet. Instead he enjoyed the sight. Thorin felt quite self-conscious under his gaze. His skin was glistening with sweat, and he thought he could already see dark spots where Bilbo had sucked at him. A lovely sight he had called him, and the memory eased Thorin’s nervousness, even encouraged him a little. He wanted to look desirable to Bilbo, and he spread his legs further, presenting his erect cock to him.

Bilbo, Thorin realized, still managed to look … proper somehow. He was still dressed in trousers, shirt, and waistcoat. Only the neckerchief was gone, and some buttons were open. Apart from his flushed face, one could easily imagine that he was back at home in Bag End, having just returned from a walk to the market.

The wanton sound he uttered, though, spoke a different language.

Bilbo bent down, pressed his nose against Thorin’s knee and slowly, agonizingly slowly moved it upward. His nose rubbed against the inside of his thighs, followed by the wet pressure of his mouth. He took his time, nibbled at his skin, moaned against it. He left Thorin completely helpless. The dwarf didn’t even dare to dig his hands into Bilbo’s hair, afraid that such a gesture might stop the hobbit from continuing his way up.

But Bilbo didn’t stop, and Thorin hissed sharply as he felt the hobbit’s nose on his cock, slowly moving from the base to the head. He started with soft movements, gradually adding pressure, just as he had when Thorin had still been dressed. His nose rubbed up and down his whole length, and the lingering touch was followed by hot puffs of air as he took in Thorin’s scent.

But then Bilbo stopped the caresses. “I wonder”, he mumbled, and the desire in his voice made Thorin shiver, “if your taste is as good as your scent.”

Bilbo’s tongue flicked out, and Thorin threw back his head with a grunt. Bilbo tasted his cock with quick licks of his tongue, each of them setting him ablaze. Then the hobbit moved his tongue along his length in a hard swipe, and Thorin finally allowed himself to grip his hair, thus pushing him closer towards him. Not that Bilbo would have needed such encouragement: His fingers closed around the base while he took Thorin’s cock into his mouth. Thorin’s heels dug into the wooden floor as Bilbo swallowed more and more of him, his tongue swirling around him hungrily.

Thorin groaned and forced himself to look down his belly. A part of him couldn’t believe it, told him that he was just fantasizing and would soon wake up, the sheets beneath him a mess and his cheeks burning with embarrassment. But Bilbo was there, kneeling between his legs and sucking him. He seemed to feel that the dwarf was watching him for he looked up. Thorin could only stare back at him while his fingers sank into Bilbo’s curls: heated cheeks, eager mouth, dilated pupils.

He thought to see a mischievous twinkle in those eyes that kept him enthralled, and Bilbo began to lap at him with broader strokes of his tongue. With another groan, Thorin drew back his head again. He wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. He was already leaking, and Bilbo licked the first drops from him with fervour. He moaned wantonly, the sound surrounded him, and the dwarf let go of his curls. He grabbed fistfuls of hay instead, and he dug his fingers into it as he panted through clenched teeth.

Suddenly Bilbo drew back, and instead of the heat of his mouth Thorin felt a waft of chill air on his cock. The loss was painful, and he struggled to look up with a suppressed moan.

Bilbo had moved to look down on him. His lips were swollen and wet, delicious, but there was a frown between his brows. “You’re holding back”, he said, and there was a hint of reproach in his voice.

Thorin’s chest heaved, and he realized that his jaw hurt with the effort of keeping his teeth grit. “I … I’m sorry”, he panted, but Bilbo wasn’t satisfied with this answer. The hobbit dragged a single finger along Thorin’s spit-slick length, causing him to inhale sharply.

“Don’t hold back”, he whispered. “Let me hear your beautiful voice.” He added more pressure, drawing a low moan from Thorin’s lips. “Yes, just like this.” His finger moved on, rubbed over the sensitive tip of Thorin’s cock.

“Bilbo …”

Now Bilbo moaned, a deep, wanton sound. “Oh yes … You make me so hard, Thorin.”

The dwarf swallowed. “I want to see. Please.”

The hobbit chuckled breathlessly. “It’s not very polite from me to be still dressed, right? I’ll gladly change that.” With quick movements he unbuttoned his waistcoat and his shirt and tossed them away. Thorin’s mouth went dry as Bilbo ran his hand over his own bulge, rubbed it with a moan as his other hand undid the buttons of his trousers. Eventually Bilbo’s hand slipped beneath the fabric, gripping himself harder. Thorin caught glimpses of coarse hair and pink flesh, but then Bilbo had to stumble to his feet to toss the fabric away. He sat down on Thorin’s chest again, and the dwarf licked his lips at the sight of his cock, stiff and wet at the tip. He wondered how Bilbo tasted, and the idea of sucking him until he screamed made his own cock twitch painfully.

Then again … It was thrilling beyond comparison to lie here like this, to be pinned down by the hobbit’s small hands. To let him take whatever he wanted.

Like in the bath before, Thorin let his head fall back and offered the crook of his neck to Bilbo willingly. “Bilbo”, he groaned, “please … let us continue.”

He let out a broken gasp as Bilbo pressed a wet kiss to his throat. “Shall I take you with my mouth again?”, he mumbled against his skin. “Or …” The hobbit drew back and grinned at him. He reached behind him, into the folds of his clothes, and showed him a little bottle. It contained a clear liquid, and Thorin thought to have seen it earlier in the bath. “Or I could do something else with you.” The hobbit’s voice became a promising whisper. “Something you will enjoy very much.”

Thorin swallowed. “I am at your service.”

“Then get on your knees for me, please.”

Thorin did so immediately. His whole body shook in anticipation as he propped himself up on his elbows, and he was very well aware of Bilbo getting in position behind him. He swallowed once more, and he flinched as he felt Bilbo’s hand on his arse, softly rubbing his flesh.

“Oh Thorin”, the hobbit panted and pressed his hard cock against him. He didn’t enter him without preparations, though, but rubbed himself against Thorin’s arse. Thorin cried out, cried Bilbo’s name, and the hobbit’s movements became more urgent. He rolled his hips forward three, four times before drawing back with a groan.

“I’m sorry”, he said, his voice raw, “but you … you’re gorgeous. I can hardly hold myself back.”

“Again”, Thorin pleaded, pushing his behind back eagerly. He only received a light slap, though. It caused him to gasp and present himself more willingly. “Again”, he panted once more. “And harder. Please.”

“Greedy dwarf”, Bilbo mumbled fondly and lowered his head between Thorin’s thighs.

This time he was too impatient to take in his scent. Instead he dragged his tongue over the sensitive flesh and nibbled at the skin of his thighs. His touches were still soft, fleeting. He was obviously trying to make Thorin relax a bit – with little success as Thorin was shaking with pleasure. Every kiss, every bite and lick made him moan; he didn’t even hear how the hobbit uncorked the bottle, and the sudden intrusion of a slick finger hit him completely off guard.

“Bilbo!”, he groaned as a finger twisted inside of him, carefully spreading him for the hobbit. “Yes, oh yes!”

“Relax, darling”, Bilbo answered, pressing a kiss to the small of his back. “I will not deny you, I promise. Just a bit more patience …” With that, he slipped in another finger. Thorin moaned, and he felt oil dropping down between his cheeks as Bilbo moved his fingers in and out with wet sounds.

“Faster”, he pleaded. Bilbo, however, didn’t increase the speed of his movements so he wouldn’t make him come already. Instead he continued the sweet torture at a moderate pace. His free hand rubbed his arse, eventually reached between Thorin’s legs to caress his stones. His touch was light, just enough to remind the dwarf that this ache hadn’t been forgotten. Thorin squirmed beneath him, unable to utter anything but incoherent moans and gasps. Even if he would have wanted to hold himself back he wouldn’t have been able to do so.

Suddenly Bilbo withdrew both his hands, and Thorin let his head fall onto his chest. He was panting heavily, but this time he heard the sound of the bottle being opened, and he cast a glance over his shoulder to see Bilbo running a slick hand along his own length. The other played with one of his nipples, pinching it and drawing a deep moan from his lips. The hobbit watched him with fiery eyes while doing so, and Thorin swallowed as he positioned himself behind him.

He gasped as he felt Bilbo’s length against his slackened hole, and he held his breath as he entered him slowly – not because he was holding back, but simply because he didn’t find the strength to cry out. He only let out a shuddering breath when Bilbo finally filled him completely. He felt surprisingly big inside of him, and the feeling alone was almost enough to push Thorin over the edge. Bilbo’s hardness inside of him, the pressure of his stones against his arse, the oil that dropped down his thighs … He groaned wantonly.

“Does it hurt, love?”, the hobbit asked. His voice was tight with desire, but the concern in it was clear.

“N-no”, he panted. “You feel so good. Bilbo … Please … Don’t deny me any longer.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Bilbo leaned forward, covered as much of Thorin’s body with his own as he could. With another kiss to his back, he thrust into him. It was a somewhat tentative movement, as if he was still trying to find the right angle, but it was already enough to make Thorin throw his head into his neck with a cry. The hobbit shifted his position slightly, and the next push went deeper, hitting a spot that sent a wave of heat through the dwarf’s whole body.

“Yes!”, he cried out. “Oh Bilbo, Bilbo!”

Encouraged, Bilbo fell into a steady rhythm. His fingers dug into Thorin’s hips, keeping them close together. He marvelled at how strong the hobbit’s thrusts were. Thorin had not imagined the hobbit to have such strength … But then again he had never imagined himself being on his knees on a hayloft, pleading for more, more, more.

Bilbo kept his promise and didn’t deny him his wishes. He thrust into Thorin with quick, hard movements of his hips now, every shove making him cry out and shaking him to his very core.

“You’re so good, Thorin”, the hobbit panted, his praise causing him to push his butt back eagerly. He even managed to spread his legs further. He wanted to plead again, to ask for everything Bilbo could give him, but the only sound he could produce was a needy moan.

“So good”, Bilbo repeated, his voice rough with desire, and reached around him to grab his cock. Thorin cried out. He didn’t know if he should push his rear back to meet Bilbo’s movements, or if he should thrust into his hand. His body didn’t seem to obey him properly, he only managed some jerky thrusts, and the friction was almost more than he could take.

Bilbo thrust deep into him again, and suddenly the whole world seemed to still. For a long moment the scent of hay was gone, just as the wooden floor beneath Thorin’s knees and the rustling of straw. There was only Bilbo now, being inside of him, holding him, and that with an intensity that took Thorin’s breath away.

Then the world broke in on him again, and his whole body arched as he reached the peak. Pleasure overwhelmed him. Bilbo’s name came over his lips in a rough cry as he spilled into his hand. Bilbo still held him, and he stroked Thorin’s twitching cock with quick movements. At the same time he kept thrusting into him, hitting that one spot with every move and not letting the strength of his climax diminish.

“You’re … so … so good”, the hobbit panted, his strained voice enough to draw another whine from Thorin’s lips. The heat of his orgasm was only slowly ebbing away, and he took in shaky breaths. “You feel so good … around me … Thorin, I’m –”

Bilbo pushed hard into him once more, and Thorin’s vision blurred again as his seed filled him in pulses. His own cry mingled with the hobbit’s, and the embers of his climax came to new life. He pushed his butt back, eager for every little friction between them. He rasped Bilbo’s name again and again, but his own voice wasn’t loud enough to cover Bilbo’s delicious gasps. The hobbit’s hand was still closed around his wet cock, and his grip only loosened as he had spent himself inside of Thorin.

Thorin’s chest was still heaving, and his breath came in quick pants. Bilbo grazed a kiss on his back. His body was warm against Thorin’s back, and he could feel how the hobbit’s chest rose and fell.

Bilbo gave him a little nudge by pressing his hips forward, and Thorin lowered himself onto the ground. Straw clung to his sweaty body, but he found that he didn’t care. He felt as if his bones and muscles had turned into honey, and a sweet fatigue took hold of him. He sighed with content and took another deep breath. The scent of hay was almost covered by the musky smell of their mingled sweat.

Suddenly Bilbo huffed out a laugh, a tiny sound Thorin could feel against his back. “I think I have to apologize to you”, he explained. He stretched himself to kiss his cheek.

Thorin raised a hand to caress his face, and they both switched their positions until they lay next to each other in the hay, facing each other.

“There is nothing you have to apologize for”, the dwarf assured him. “It was wonderful.” He smiled. “You are wonderful.”

Bilbo returned the smile. “Although I’m a liar? After all I promised I wouldn’t get between you and your bath – and now guess what I just did!”

“This was far better than any bath could have ever been.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ve never taken a bath together with me.”

“That sounds promising.” Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo, pulling him closer. “I hope I can take it as a promise that we _will_ bathe together?”

Bilbo shuffled towards him. “In fact, I would be more than happy to share a bath with you.” He reached out to caress Thorin’s cheek. “There are more things I would like to share with you … if you want the same.” He showed him a smile, but there was a tiny spark of insecurity amidst the fondness in his eyes.

“I do”, Thorin assured him. He learned forward to kiss Bilbo gently, and once more he marvelled at the way his hunt for a bar of soap had turned into such a wonderful experience.


End file.
